


Sweet Arthur

by lemonfish56



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Is Not Sick, Arthur Plays Piano, Arthur is not an outlaw, Bottom Arthur Morgan, Different Circumstances, M/M, Young Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonfish56/pseuds/lemonfish56
Summary: Arthur is a pianist at the local saloon, and he meets a man named Dutch who seems awfully interested in his instrumental abilities.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde
Kudos: 46





	Sweet Arthur

Rays of sunlight shone through miniscule slats in the double swinging doors of the Old Light Saloon where a young man named Arthur Morgan worked as a beginning pianist. Van Horn trading post is a rough place to begin his trade, but Arthur had looked elsewhere but to no avail. His efforts had only been a severe waste of time it seemed to him, so Van Horn it would be. 

Arthur leaned up against the bar taking a look at the light splayed against the tables. Some of the regular gamblers were already sitting at their usual tables waiting for the evening rabble to blunder in. Most of these were men in their later years hoping to earn a profit from their bad habits, and when they had no success each night it was as if the next evening all of their misfortunes from the previous night were forgotten. Arthur had seen it a thousand times by now in his few months working at the Old Light Saloon--to him it was simply a sad sight. 

The sunlight was a pretty contrast to the old men who sat at the tables. It made them seem more beautiful than they appeared. They were more human in those chairs with the sunlight on their faces because it connected them to some part of the outside world. Even if that world was merely a dirt road and a big windmill that continuously turned just over the precipice of the town. This town was made for thugs and ragged people it seemed to Arthur, but they were almost better than some of the people he had met in the upper rings of society. Arthur was a man of simple needs which is why money in excess seemed to boggle his mind. The rich would never look as real as these people sitting right here in this saloon. 

The night shift was about to begin for Arthur, and he was somehow excited for and dreading the next hours of his life. His only true love is being able to play the piano which is partly why he still has an exhilaration for playing, but his dread stems from a few things. Firstly, playing the piano after many hours leaves his hands in a state. Secondly, the patrons are not exactly to die for. Some nights in Van Horn he finds himself breaking up fights or helping with unruly customers who have had one too many whiskeys. This is one of the things that sours his playing for him, and he can only wish that one day he will be able to play in some place a little less rowdy. 

Arthur takes a small sip of his water and takes a seat at his little bench where he has sat so many times recently. The patrons of the saloon began to slowly meander their way through the doors disrupting the light that Arthur had been looking at so intently just moments before. People began to take their seats at the gambling tables and at the stools to order a drink. It was mostly men who walked through those doors but a few women took their places in some of the stools not necessarily caring to gamble any money like their husbands might like to. Arthur began playing his selections as chairs screeched against the old wooden flooring. His first selection was a fast tune that took shape as though it were the red and white swirls hanging outside of a barber shop. It was a whimsical ditty that Arthur had learned specifically for this job, but he enjoyed playing it nonetheless. It was one of the more challenging pieces that made a pianist look extremely capable of his trade--one of those pieces that made Arthur quite proud of himself in a humble sort of way. He liked to think that his teacher would be quite proud of him in this moment for the skill that it took to accomplish such a feat when coming from a family that had no inherent musical ability to begin with--if such a thing like that truly exists. 

The night slowly went on and Arthur amused himself with his occupation, slowly sinking into the feel of the music. He began to lose himself in each song as he did every evening such as this one, and his ability to forget where he was as well as some of the crummy people that were directly behind him made it much more palatable for him. The dread of the night began to slip away, and he was suddenly quite glad that his piano was set up against the wall so that he could well and truly immerse himself worlds away from reality. A dull thud is what pulled him out of his daze. Arthur continued darting his hands across the keys switching from a fast tune to a slower one, but his attention was brought to a man leaning slightly over his shoulder peering down at him. The man had a mustache and dark, slicked-back hair that seemed to glisten in the low light of the saloon. Arthur only now realized that in his trance the sun had gone completely down leaving only the lights to cast a glow around the gamblers. 

The man was wearing what looked to be a velvet vest appearing to be a dark maroon but with the dim lighting it could have been much different--perhaps brighter. His presence was unnerving to Arthur who had not yet had anyone take an interest in his playing in all of the months that he had been there. Van Horn was not full of  admirers of artistic abilities in the least especially with it being a hub for criminals and all. Arthur was taken aback by the proximity of this man,  _ this man must be some sort of drunk _ . 

Focusing on the keys, Arthur decided to simply ignore his viewer; however, the mysterious man apparently did not like this idea and moved himself to the side of the piano to get a better look at the young pianist. Arthur kept his head down and on his fingers attempting to get back into a similar state from earlier, but he found that his attention could not keep away from the adjacent audience. Arthur did not look at this man’s face, but found that he was annoyed by the addition of someone to criticize his playing. Perhaps nothing would happen. This person would simply walk away after getting bored of the simple piano music he was playing; however, luck was not on Arthur’s side this evening. This polished man did not seem like he was going to be leaving any time soon, but Arthur could not help but wonder what a fancy man like this was doing in Van Horn fraternizing with fugitives. 

Soon enough, Arthur finds that his shift is close to being over. A few awkward hours had passed for Arthur with the lingering man stood so closely by, but he had managed to be relatively normal in his routine. He played the last note of the song and stopped his hands from their previously ceaseless motions, and he moved to stand from his seat at the piano. Gathering up his sheet music, he heard this man say his first words of the night.

“So, you’re done.”

_ Yeah, show’s over for the night _ . Arthur had a clarity in his voice that signified his youth in comparison to the gravel of the older man whom he had yet to even look in the face. Once he had gathered his music Arthur made his way to the bar to ask for a glass of water. After this, Arthur had plans to head up the stairs to his room above the saloon and soak in the bath for a moment before climbing into his bed for a long sleep. Sitting down on an empty stool, Arthur waited patiently for his coworker to bring him the glass of water. 

“You haven’t taken one look at me, you know?” the gravelly voice sat next to him and ordered a whiskey. 

Arthur raised his head to take a look at the man sitting next to him and saw that the man was already looking in his direction. He snapped his head back to look for his water, tilting his head a bit in the process.  _ Well, I didn’t mean anything by it mister, just doing my job.  _

“Well that’s quite alright. Name’s Dutch in case you were wondering.”

_ Nice to meet you mister _ . Arthur’s glass was set in front of him, and he immediately took a decent sized gulp out of it not realizing how thirsty he was. Truthfully, he could not wait to get upstairs and out of his overcoat which was making him overheat bit by bit especially with the candlelight.  _ Arthur _ , he said pointing at himself with a small gesture of his hand. 

“You are quite the player of that contraption over there, Arthur. How can you do all that?”

_ Lot’s of practice, mister, that’s all.  _ Arthur finished his glass of water, but realized that he could not simply leave now that he had a conversation--doing so would be rude, and Arthur was not raised to be that way. Arthur was a man of manners, and he took a certain kind of pride out of that even if he is desperate to get out of some situations like this one. While he is a man of manners, he is certainly not a man of many words by any means. 

Somewhat unsure, Arthur looked around the room at the gamblers who seemed to be having their own conversations of bluffs, cheating, and tells. Some man across the room was having a severe disparity over whether or not the dealer was a man of honesty or not--Arthur hoped he would not have to deal with throwing this man out before he got to his room. Arthur cleared his throat and glanced at the man named Dutch. Dutch took a swig of his whiskey, and he set the glass glass down on the counter with a quiet thud. Arthur caught the shine of his pistol under his jacket in his belt for a split-second before it was hidden as his hand came back down to the bar. 

It only just hit Arthur that this man could be incredibly dangerous. Arthur had never truly been afraid of the other lowlife patrons that had ever come into the saloon other than maybe some of the clearly deranged criminals that came in every so often. None of these had ever spoken to him, however, which made his life much easier than he knew. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the weapon his eyes widened a little bit and settled on his empty glass beside the sheet music. 

_ Where you from?  _ Arthur said this a bit quietly, feeling the call of slumber at his mind. 

“I’ve been in Saint Denis the past few years, but I come here every now and then for business. Arthur, why are you here?” Arthur gave him a questioning look. “I only mean that you aren’t like the rest of these people.”

_ I work here. _

“You don’t speak much. You shy or something?” Arthur did not respond. “Hmm. Must be”

_ I don’t know you, mister. Not much to say.  _ Arthur was purposefully being a bit dismissive, but to an extent he had to admit that he was shy much of the time and this blatant suggestion made him a bit flustered for some reason. Arthur called for his coworker asking to have another glass of water before heading off. 

“Leaving so soon?”

_ Long night I guess _ . The glass made a clink as it was set down and the bartender walked down to the other side where patrons were asking for alcohol as well. Arthur nursed his glass of water in his slender hands and tried not to think about the gun in the other man’s belt. Soon his drink was empty again, and he stepped down from the stool to grab his music and be on his way. 

“Can I interest you in a smoke outside, Arthur?” Arthur hesitated with his mouth trying to find an excuse to say no. “Come on! You can’t be done yet--the night is still young! Just one?” 

_ Okay, but just one _ . Dutch stood, drained his drink and gestured for Arthur to continue first out the double doors. Arthur put his music under the bar area and left the building out to the small overhanging over the ground. There was no real porch on the saloon, but there was a small spot to the left where people would usually be doing knife tricks on a now deserted table. There was no one to be seen in Van Horn at this late hour other than a drunk down the road singing a quiet drunken tune that Arthur could barely make out from his spot outside the saloon. Arthur had expected more people, but he had never really gone out after one of his night shifts to inspect the conditions of Van Horn late at night. 

Dutch took out a paper packet of smokes and handed one to Arthur who held his for a moment. Dutch then took out a match and lit his and Arthur’s cigarettes. Arthur was not much of a smoker either, but he could not easily refuse such a fervent request to indulge in the habit. With his inexperience in smoking, he immediately choked on his first puff of smoke causing Dutch to laugh at the novelty of his reaction. Dutch was a man who was usually surrounded by hard people who did not show weaknesses such as these very often. Arthur was a soft young man compared to the men inside the saloon, and Dutch could not figure out how such a boy could land himself here. 

_ Thanks _ . Arthur said this tilting his head slightly at the cigarette, indicating his thanks. 

“You are welcome, Arthur. I should thank you for not leaving me to do this alone, rather.” Dutch continued after a moment of pause. “Arthur, we  _ are _ quite alone right now.” Dutch moved to rest his hand on the beam next to where Arthur was standing, crowding him into the wall. Dutch had his hand resting above his belt, showing his shiny pistol without meaning any intimidation to the other man. Arthur looked at Dutch suddenly with a new vision of the man, clearly realizing his true intentions a bit too late. Shying away, Arthur took a drag of his cigarette and looked the other way down the street, not able to see the drunken man anymore. He was quite determined to imagine that he had taken Dutch’s advance the wrong way, so that he could forget that anything had ever happened and sleep soundly tonight, but luck could never be on his side it seemed. 

“You’re quite young, but surely you’ve...had someone before?” 

His body froze at that question which had only made it completely obvious that the man did not have any innocent intentions with him. Arthur chanced a glance up at the man standing too close for comfort, and he immediately wished that he hadn’t because the hungry look on the man’s face spoke volumes to what he might be thinking of doing to Arthur. He glanced across the road again--this time slightly embarrassed by the entire situation and his own answer to that question.  _ No _ . He felt his cheeks burn at his own inexperience, and he thought of why he was so inexperienced. He knew he was ugly and that he was less desirable than other men his age who had money or good looks. He just wasn’t one of those people, but he had resigned himself to that since he was a younger boy. He took another drag of his cigarette, and then flicked the ash to the ground. 

“Pretty.” Arthur looked at Dutch and shook his head absentmindedly, disagreeing with the sentiment that the older man was so freely to give.

_ I ain’t _ . Another drag of the cigarette that was slowly waning away. He decidedly dropped it to the ground and pressed his shoe into it, crushing out the light. Dutch’s hand moved out to touch his chin, tilting his head up to see his expression. 

“I think you are most beautiful, Arthur.” Arthur touched the hand on his chin and slowly moved it away, so he could dart his eyes away from the other man. “You don’t believe me, then. Perhaps...I can change that.”

Dutch moved ever so closer to Arthur, overshadowing him by a few inches. Arthur kept his eyes forward, slightly uncomfortable with the actions of the other man, but he wanted to see where this might go. The other man leans down to press a soft kiss to Arthur’s neck, and he rests his hand on Arthur’s hip. Dutch trails his way up to Arthur’s cheek leaving a final kiss before taking a look at Arthur. “You okay with this?” Dutch realized he had never been this gentle with a person before. 

Arthur could not bring himself to speak, so he nodded while Dutch checked his eyes for permission. Testing the waters, Arthur put his fingers out to feel the velvet of Dutch’s decorated vest. Dutch took that as permission enough, and put his hand out to hold Arthur’s chin. Dutch kissed him softly--almost too soft for such a man as he was. The doors to the saloon opened suddenly to let out the bunch of men who were apparently done for the night. Dutch removed himself from the other man and stood at his side as if nothing were amiss partly due to the illegality of their previous situation. One could never be too safe in these times as Dutch had learned from many dangerous circumstances in his line of work. 

“I don’t have anywhere we could go, sweet boy.”

_ I have a room upstairs _ . 

“Well, Mr. Arthur, would you allow me to accompany you there?” Dutch gestured his arms toward the doors, and took one last drag of his cigarette before pressing it to the ground as Arthur had done moments before. Arthur acquiesced and led the other man through the doors, stopping to grab his sheet music on the way. They walked up to his room with Arthur in front as only one person could fit through the staircase at a time. Making it to the door, Arthur pulled his room key from his pocket and opened the door, allowing Dutch to proceed through first. Arthur shut the door behind them, and put his sheet music in the night stand beside his bed. Shutting the drawer, he turned to the side to see Dutch eyeing up the painting hanging in the room. 

“Nice piece of work, this one is,” Dutch mused. Arthur hummed and hung about the room, not quite sure of what he should do. Dutch turned his head to Arthur, seeing his uncomfortable disposition and smiled softly. “You have no idea how you look, do you?” Arthur stayed silent, but shook his head ever slightly. Coming closer, Dutch kissed Arthur again with intention and swiped his thumb across his forehead to move a stubborn piece of hair leaning over Arthur’s eyes. Dutch moved Arthur to a sitting position on the bed, and he moved Arthur’s suspenders to the sides of his shoulders so that they hung down. He then began to unbutton Arthur’s shirt without hesitation. Once this was done, Dutch proceeded to take his own jacket off, leaving him in the vest that Arthur so very appreciated. He laid the jacket across the railing of the bed, and sat next to Arthur. He pushed Arthur slowly back onto the bed, and unbuckled Arthur’s pants and took them off. “You are beautiful, Arthur.”

Arthur covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. This might have been too much for him and too fast, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop the other man from continuing. “Let me see you, boy.” Arthur peeked through his fingers at the other man, and Dutch took his hands away from his face revealing the sheepish features he had wished to conceal. 

_ No one’s ever said I was… _

“That’s a real shame, Arthur. You deserve so much more.”

Dutch let his hands wander over Arthur’s bare thighs inching his way along the milky expanse of the pianist. Finally, he drew back and began to unbuckle his own belt, sliding his pants down off his legs in a quick move. He then put himself between Arthur’s legs, bending them just enough for him to bend down to close the distance between him and Arthur. Dutch moves his hands to Arthur’s thighs and kisses him strongly, pushing him down into the covers. Arthur begins to unbutton the vest that Dutch is still somehow wearing, and then the undershirt comes off as well. Arthur finds himself in awe of this other man between his legs and with both having only their undergarments, the closeness of Dutch overwhelms his senses. Dutch continues to kiss him after this, slipping his tongue into the mix after a while. 

Dutch breaks away from the kiss, leaving Arthur to catch his breath from the intensity of the kiss. Dutch slides his fingers into the waistband of Arthur’s underwear and finesses them down to throw them off the side of the bed. Dutch then takes his own off as well while Arthur oogles the other man, hanging his mouth open just a smidge at the size of the other. Dutch leans down to give him a tiny peck for that, and hikes Arthur’s legs up around his hips. 

“Ready?” the other said with a hoarse quality to his voice. 

_ Wait!  _ Dutch stopped his movements immediately looking at Arthur with a worried look.  _ uh, will it...hurt?  _

“Don’t worry sweet boy. I’ll take care of you.”

Dutch pulled some oil from his bag next to his jacket and dribbled some onto his fingers. Dutch prodded Arthur with his finger, slipping in with some resistance. Arthur yelped and hunched in on himself a little from the surprising sensation. Dutch began to move the finger in and out, making space for a second finger to move in next to the other. The addition of the second made Arthur squirm with the overload he was experiencing, and he winced with pain at the intrusion. 

“Breathe, Arthur. Shhhh. You’re okay,” Dutch soothed Arthur as best he could as he knew the pain would be worth what happened next. “You want more?”

Arthur nodded hesitantly, unsure if he could manage anything else. Dutch held Arthur at his waist and with Arthur’s legs around him he had easy access to the other man. Dutch pressed into Arthur as slowly as he could, continuing until he was fully sheathed into Arthur’s heat. Arthur groaned and hid his face into his arm, trying to hide. 

“Arthur, so sweet. Look at me, dear boy.” Dutch coaxed Arthur out of his hiding place and kissed his cheek with real affection for the man he had known for such a small amount of time. Finally, Arthur looked up at Dutch with eyes seeing nothing else but him. Dutch was completely taken by how much power he had over this younger man, and he never wanted to stop. Dutch slowly pulled himself out only to thrust back in keeping his eyes locked with Arthur’s. He put his hand down beside Arthur’s face on the pillow and rocked in and out of Arthur, making Arthur have to hold onto Dutch’s shoulders as he picked up his speed. Arthur called out as Dutch hit a spot within him which he hadn’t known existed until now, and Dutch aimed to hit that spot again. “Sweet Arthur. Oh, good boy.” Dutch continued as Arthur looked between them where their bodies were clashing together. 

Dutch pushed Arthur’s legs even closer to his chest, bending him close to in half. He began to thrust harder as he felt himself become closer and closer to the precipice of his pleasure.  _ Dutch _ , Arthur keened under the pressure of the older man’s body against his own.  _ Oh!  _ Dutch made one final thrust into Arthur releasing himself inside, and he pulled Arthur into a deep kiss to cement what they had done. Dutch quickly finished Arthur off, pulling at him through his climax while still hilted inside of him. Dutch pulled out of Arthur completely and looked down at his handiwork. “So beautiful.”

Dutch fell down onto the bed next to Arthur and pulled Arthur into his chest, wrapping his arms around his midsection. Arthur grunted a bit at the movement, but relaxed at the comfortable position. Dutch pressed a kiss to his temple and watched as the younger man fell soundly asleep. Dutch mused that he looked so perfectly angelic in his sleep and that Arthur was  _ his _ for this one night before succumbing to his own exhaustion with Arthur curled up in his arms. 

It was the best sleep he had in ages. 


End file.
